A Fork In the Road--Part 0
by Magical Me
Summary: We tend to think of Harry and Voldemort as two complete opposites. But what if we're wrong? What if that isn't entirely true? There are possibilities, you know.


I know I'm already in the middle of two series', but I was just standing over a bowl of guacamole and chips when this came to me, and I couldn't wait to write it. It's about two people who we've always thought of as the very representation of opposites. But what if they--aren't?   
  
To make things less confusing, simple narrative is in plain Arial, Harry's experiences are in Arial Special, and good old Voldie's experiences are in Arial Narrow (not that you really needed to be told...  
  
Also, this is just the sort of prologue. Or maybe it's part one. I haven't decided yet. In any case, there's much more to come.  


  
*****  
A Fork in the Road  
  
*****  
The choices we make  


  
It is our choices that make us what we truly are, far more than our abilities, or so the saying goes. At first glance, this statement seems perfectly straightforward and sensible. One is at leisure to agree and pass on. But if you take the time to really break it down and think about it, there's more to the phrase than meets the eye.  
  


The paths that we take  


  
What if there was someone in this world who was just like you. Scarily so. And then-what if you both reached one monumental, defining point in your lives. A point in your life where you had to make the most important decision you'd ever make, without really realizing you were making it at all. And what if...what if you made different choices? Would things ever be the same? Are you still the same people? Or are you suddenly the two most different people on Earth?  


*****  


  
Harry Potter followed a sandy-haired boy into the Great Hall, shivering slightly; half in awe of his surroundings, half petrified about the upcoming Sorting Ceremony. As a stern-looking, middle-aged woman with black hair pulled into a tight bun began reading off names from a long roll of parchment, everything everyone had told him about the four Hogwarts houses danced around his mind, complimenting and contradicting each other, much to Harry's annoyance.  
  
"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," Hagrid had said. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin."  
  
"Imagine being in Hufflepuff-I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Gryffindor sounds by far the best," Hermione had declared in her bossy voice.   
  
"I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad." Both Hermione and Ron had agreed on that point.  
  
"But imagine if they put me in Slytherin," Ron had added.  
  


"You might belong in Gryffindor  
Where dwell the brave at heart.  
Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart.  
  
You might belong in Hufflepuff  
Where they are just and loyal  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil.  
  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw  
If you've a ready mind  
Where those of wit and learning  
Will always find their kind.  
  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends."  


  
As Harry certainly didn't feel brave, loyal, wise, or cunning at the moment, the Sorting Hat's words had only served to confuse him more.  
  
All too soon, Harry heard the voice of the black-haired witch proclaim to the hall, 'Potter, Harry'. It was then that he knew, quite suddenly, where he couldn't ever be. And he was on his way.  
  
"Hmm. Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes-and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting....So where shall I put you?"  
  
"Not Slytherin, not Slytherin." Harry concentrated on the thought as hard as he could, repeating it over and over again in his mind, praying that this hat could hear and understand him.  
  
"Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no coubt about that-no? Well, if you're sure-better be GRYFFINDOR!"  


*****  


  
Tom Riddle followed a black-haired boy into the Great Hall, shivering slightly; half in awe of his surroundings, half petrified about the upcoming Sorting Ceremony. As a pleasant-looking young man with auburn hair strewn all about his face began reading off names from a long roll of parchment, everything everyone had told him about the four Hogwarts houses danced around his mind, complimenting and contradicting each other, much to Tom's annoyance.  
  
"The Hufflepuffs are just a load of old scatterbrains. I don't know what I'd do if I was made one of them. I'd probably transfer to Durmstrang," Nerfernicus Nott had told him with an air of knowing on the train.  
  
"Gryffindors, you know, have intolerably big heads," said Ivy Nickelson. "But Hufflepuffs are worse."  
  
"The Slytherins are evil, one word for it," cried Mitchell James vehemently. "They're always the ones who turn out real dark. Always. Gryffindors are the brave, noble ones. I want to be a Gryffindor."  
  
"I, personally, want to be in Ravenclaw, though it's commonly thought of as only second best. I consider myself intellectual. But otherwise, Gryffindor for sure. Hufflepuff wouldn't be too bad at all, thought." Amy Henderson.  
  
"Imagine if they put me in Slytherin," whispered Harold darkly.   
  


"You might belong in Gryffindor  
Where dwell the brave at heart.  
Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart.  
  
You might belong in Hufflepuff  
Where they are just and loyal  
And unafraid of toil.  
  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw  
If you've a ready mind  
Where those of wit and learning  
Will always find their kind.  
  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends."  


  
As Tom certainly didn't feel brave, loyal, wise, or cunning at the moment, the Sorting Hat's words had only served to confuse him more.  
  
All too soon, Tom heard the voice of the auburn-haired wizard proclaim to the hall, 'Riddle, Thomas'. Shakily, and as unsure as ever, his feet began walking mechanically. And he was on his way.  
  
"Hmm. Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, oh my goodness, yes-and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting....So where shall I put you?"  
  
Please let this all come out okay...  
  
"A good fit for Gryffindor, indeed. But I'm afraid, my dear, that I'll need to take one more second, for I'm still a bit unsure. My, you could be great in Slytherin, you know. Amazing. You'll be great anyway, of course, but Slytherin will indeed help you on the way to greatness."  
  
"Me? Great? Amazing? What a pleasant change that would be from skinny, odd little Tom, who's the least favorite of Mr. Cleat, the horrible head of the orphanage, and the type of boy always to be shunned and avoided. Teased every day! Great? Amazing? Too good to be true, of course, but a wonderful thought all the same."  
  
"Too good to be true, eh? A little cynical, aren't we? No, I'm growing more and more sure every second that you are indeed a SLYTHERIN!"  


*****  


  
Is that where it ends? The parting of the ways? Or is that where it begins? Only time can, and indeed will, tell.  


*****


End file.
